Explanations: Why are they called Death Eaters?
by GuardianLurker
Summary: My first of one-shots and short fics that try to reconcile canon-shortcomings in canon-compatible ways. This is a single scene exploring the meaning of "Death Eater" and its intersection with the Pureblood Supremacist attitude.


Explanations

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A/N: Genre: Horror; Rating: M; Character: Lord Voldemort

#ifndef DISCLAIMER_HARRY_POTTER

#define DISCLAIMER "I don't own Harry Potter, or rights to any of its associated intellectual property. This story is published as non-profit fanfiction."

#endif

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_Chapter 1: Why are they called Death Eaters?_

Lord Voldemort gazed down from his throne at his assembled Death Eaters, their faces concealed by their masks, all standing impassively in the dimly-lit room. "Companions, tonight, we once again will be growing our ranks; more witches and wizards come before us, to prove their superiority over the lesser beings who deny Magic its rightful place, to dedicate their lives to the supremacy of Magic, and to bind themselves to our company by Eating Death. Who brings the supplicants?"

Five Death Eaters, two with silver masks and three with bone, stepped forward. The leftmost one, with a silver mask spoke. "My lord, the supplicant I bring before you is one Mathias Franklin, a clerk of the DMLE who is responsible for maintaining, and recording, the alarms placed by the Ministry at various locations, such as the homes of Wizengamot and senior Ministry officials."

"Does anyone speak against Wizard Franklin?"

After a brief pause of 10 to 20 seconds, the next wizard, one with a bone mask, spoke: "My lord, the supplicant I bring before you is one Oriphicles Angleton, a clerk at St. Mungo's who is responsible for recording the births of all magical children."

"Does anyone speak against Wizard Angleton?"

Again, a brief pause, and the second wizard with a bone mask stepped forward. "My lord, the supplicant I bring before you is one Delores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic."

"Does anyone speak against Witch Umbridge?"

"My lord, the supplicant I bring before you is one Diana Temson, who provides discreet entertainment to many of the Wizarding Lords of England."

"Does anyone speak against Witch Temson?"

From the crowd, a Death Eater stepped forward. "My lord. I know Witch Temson well. She is indeed a fine, upstanding witch. But she is a half-blood, raised by her muggle mother. She has ties to the lesser-born."

"Does any other speak for Witch Temson?"

Another Death Eater stepped forward from the crowd. "My lord. I also know Witch Temson well, and have spoken with her at length many times, discussing many things. Throughout all of these discussions, Witch Temson has expressed a distrust and hatred of the lesser-born to rival any of us, and has frequently lamented the fact that she must travel to foreign countries to properly muggle-hunt. I endorse my companion's choice."

"My lord, her mother still lives. But hearing my companion's endorsement, I will withdraw my object, should Witch Temson pass the Trial."

Lord Voldemort spoke again. "Companions – is this resolution acceptable to you? Shall Witch Temson face the Half-blood's Trial? Or shall her supplication be denied?" To which the crowd replied with a ragged shout "The Trial!"

"And who brings our last supplicant?"

"My lord, the supplicant I bring before you is one Jonathon Smithson, the primary supplier to Borgins and Burkes for their more exotic potion ingredients."

"Does anyone speak against Wizard Smithson?" After one final pause, Lord Voldemort, continued. "Then bring forth the supplicants!" With that, the crowd organized itself into staggered rows, with an aisle in the center. The five advocates filed down the aisle and left the room. As they did, one Death Eater, wearing a silver mask and the distinctive robes of a Senior Healer at St. Mungo's stepped forward. Another silver-masked Death Eater advanced carrying a fine wooden chest, about the size of a large book, with a simple brass clasp. With a simple charm, the box was spotlit and floating in mid-air. Another charm left a glowing seven-pointed star hovering over the box. A third Death-Eater, though with only a bone mask and wearing the robes of a Ministry of Magic Obliviator stood at the room's entrance. The preparations complete 5 loud knocks were heard at the door.

The Obliviator, or more formally, the Memory Guard, lit his wand with a green light. "My lord, the supplicants seek their audience."

"Assure that the approach is guarded and secure."

The Memory Guard knocked once on the door, then opened it, stepped outside, and after a few moments, returned. "The approach is guarded by three loyal companions and secured against all spies and unbelievers."

"Are the supplicants properly prepared?"

"Blinded, they seek the light of Magic's Supremacy."

"Admit them." The Memory Guard knocked 5 times on the doors, which were opened from the outside. The five advocates escorted their supplicants down the aisle to the center of the room where Lord Voldemort stood behind the spotlit box, barely visible from the interposing brightness. As they approached, Lord Voldemort began the Ritual of Initiation.

"Supplicants. Humbled by the wrong, you come before us to restore Pride in what is Right. Deafened by lies, you seek to hear the Words of Truth. Blinded by the Darkness of Inferiority, you seek the Light of Magic's Supremacy. You are in the presence of Magic's Anointed, he who is Lord, Voldemort. Kneel." The supplicants, now only a few feet from the box and Lord Voldemort, knelt, if somewhat awkwardly because of their blindfolds. "You have made supplication because you seek Magic's supremacy, to serve its cause, to better yourself and Magic, and to defend Magic against those lesser beings that weaken it. In this you have demonstrated Ravenclaw's wisdom, Hufflepuff's loyalty, Slytherin's ambition, and Gryffindor's righteousness. This is not a charge to be undertaken lightly. Behold that which you will serve." With this the advocates vanished the blindfold's from their supplicant's head. "You are about to take upon yourself an irrevocable, unbreakable, binding oath to Magic's Supremacy, service to service, magic to magic, life to life. Once bound the only release will be that Final Release which awaits us. At this point, you can refuse what is offered, at not be thought lesser; not all are called. Refuse, and you will be returned whence you came, this naught but a dream. But this privilege shall not be offered again. Accept, and you face your Ultimate Trial." Lord Voldemort stared deeply into Mathias Franklin's eyes, his passive legilimency seeking any deceit. "Wizard Mathias Franklin. Are you ready and willing?"

The leftmost supplicant boldly responded, "I am." Lord Voldemort moved to the next supplicant, again locking his eyes with the supplicant's. "Wizard Oriphicles Angleton. Are you ready and willing?"

Here, Lord Voldemort stared deeper and deeper into Angleton's eyes. After some while, the Wizard's frame started shaking and he began sobbing. "No, my lord. I am not ready." Lord Voldemort's face fell into a look of compassion. "Companion Guard. Return Wizard Angleton to his place in the world." Angleton and his advocate were escorted out of the room be the Memory Guard who quickly returned. The advocated was guarding a stunned Angleton, and the Obliviator would remove the memories after the ceremony.

"Witch Delores Umbridge. Are you ready and willing." The toad-like witch offered a quavering reply, "I am."

"Witch Diana Temson. Are you ready and willing?" A fierce reply of "I am" quickly followed.

"Wizard Jonathon Smithson. Are you ready and willing?" The wizard smugly replied, "I am."

"Witch Temson. You are a Half-blood with ties to the lesser-born. This does not preclude you from serving the cause of Magic's Supremacy, from entering our service, but you must remove and repudiate all the ties that prevent this. Open your heart and mind to Magic's Anointed that we may determine to those ties." Lord Voldemort held Temson's head and stared into her eyes, his legilimency penetrating to her earliest memories. Turning to the silver-masked Death Eater who had placed the box. "Companion Keeper. We know her ties; fetch them." The Death-Eater, more ritually known as Death's Keeper, left the room by a side door, and returned a few minutes later with an older woman.

"Mother..." came the loathing hiss of the witch.

"Witch Diana Temson. Free yourself of your ties." Without pause or hesitation, the witch gleefully cast an incredibly dark curse that ripped the older woman's womb from her body and burnt it on the ground. She then cast another dark curse, and plunged her hand, glowing hot, into the woman's chest, ripping out her heart, crushing and burning it in her hand. Even the most hardened of the watching Death Eater's were taken aback, and her fellow supplicants looked at Temson as if she were another Bellatrix Lestrange in the making.

"Companions! Has Witch Temson overcome the Half-blood's Trial?" "AYE!"

"Wizards Franklin and Smithson. Witches Temson and Umbridge. Magic is supreme. While even the animals and lesser beings can take lives, only Magic can restore life where it has been torn away from the worthy." Lord Voldemort nodded at the Keeper, who again left by the side door to return with a muggle, an athletic man in his mid-to-late twenties. The Keeper knelt the man to the left of the box. Lord Voldemort motioned to one of the silver-masked Death-Eaters in the front ranks. Trembling, the Death-Eater knelt on the other side of the box. Lord Voldemort came around to the front of the box. "I am Magic's Anointed. In one hand I hold Death in all its forms, from the least to the most. In the other, I hold Life, capable of Healing all who are worthy." With that the Keeper and the Healer stepped forward and knelt in front of Lord Voldemort. The Keeper then stood up, unlatched the box, and handed what was inside to his Lord. Voldemort turned around. "This is the Muggle's Death, an automatic pistol." With practiced ease, Voldemort slipped the magazine into the pistol, cocked the slide, and pointed the muzzle at the floor. "Do not scoff at it. While the Muggle's made it, it is still Death, and can kill even the worthy." Death's Keeper leaned down to the kneeling, quaking muggle, and whispered into his ear. The muggle stilled, tilted his head back, and opened his mouth, as if he was a baby bird waiting for a worm. "This unworthy muggle shall Eat Death." Voldemort stepped in front of his victim, inserted the pistol's muzzle down into the muggle's mouth, and pulled the trigger. The loud retort surprised all the other Death-Eaters. The bullet had blown apart the muggle's jaw and demolished the flesh of his neck. The Healer rushed over and started casting well-known healing spells. None of them worked on the muggle, and he very quickly died. "Magic's Hand cannot heal the unworthy."

Lord Voldemort stepped over to the kneeling Death-Eater, and bent down to whisper in his ear. "Thirteen years. Thirteen years. This is one." Voldemort then straightened up, and loudly asked, "Companion. Do you believe in Magic?" "Yes, my lord." Again, Voldemort inserted the pistol and pulled the trigger. The damage was just the same. Again, the Healer rushed over and cast the same spells. This time they worked. The throat and neck were restored to their original state, and the jaw reformed. The healer poured a potion down the Death-Eater's repaired throat, and they both stood up.

"This is the power of Magic. It reigns supreme over the Muggle Death." He motioned to the silver-masked Death-Eater, who staggered over to his place in the front ranks.

Lord Voldemort turned again the the four wizards and witches in front of him, his gaze lingering over each one. "This is the Ultimate Trial of Magic's Supremacy. Accept it, and enter into our service, one who has Eaten Death and is living proof of Magic's Power. Refuse, and while you will return to the world with this as a dream or nightmare, you will forever live with the knowledge that you are a coward, and a traitor to your belief in magic."

Lord Voldemort stepped in front of Franklin, the Healer immediately behind the nervous supplicant. "Wizard Mathias Franklin, do you believe in Magic?" "I believe in Magic, lord."

As the Healer was tending Franklin, Voldemort moved to the next supplicant. When the Healer was ready, he asked, "Witch Diana Temson, do you believe in Magic?" The witch looked up at him with adoration, "I believe in you, my lord. I believe in Magic."

Standing in front of the third supplicant, Lord Voldemort asked, "Witch Delores Umbridge, do you believe in Magic?" The trembling witch looked up at him, with fear growing on her toad-like face. Then she leaped up with all the bravery of a cornered rat. "You will not touch me with that filthy thing! No self-respecting wizard would touch, much less use, that horrid piece of muggle trash! No! You're a fake!..." Her panicked rambling could obviously have continued for some time, and easily covered up Voldemort's soft "Crucio". Her screams of writhing agony could not be covered up, but they quickly stopped as she fell unconscious. "tsk. She didn't even last as long as the muggle. Companion Guard. Take this waste of a witch outside, and leave her with what she deserves." The Memory Guard came forward and dragged the witch away by the collar of her robes, Umbridge's advocate following.

"Wizard Jonathon Smithson, do you believe in Magic?" "Better Dud than Mud, my lord. I believe."

Lord Voldemort handed the pistol to the Keeper, who ejected the magazine, unloaded the pistol, and returned it to the box. Lord Voldemort waited until the Healer had finished with Smithson, then approached Franklin once more. "Wizard Franklin, you have passed Magic's Ultimate Trial. Are you ready to serve Magic's cause?"

"I am."

Lord Voldemort grabbed the wizard's left arm and bared it. Pointing his wand at the bare flesh, he tattooed the skull of the Death-Eater's Mark onto the wizard's arm, then conjured a knife. Using the knife, he then cut the arm and tattoo in the path the snake would follow, and the cut his own palm in a similar manner. Grabbing the wizard's arm so that his bleeding palm was directly over the tattoo, Lord Voldemort cast the Vow.

"Do you believe in Magic's supremacy?" "I do."

"Will you serve Magic, life for life?" "I will."

"Will you serve Magic's Anointed, Lord Voldemort, magic for magic?" "I will."

"By Magic's Power and Trial, let us be bound together! Morsmorde!"

Franklin cried out in pain briefly, then, tenderly cradling his newly marked arm, stood. Lord Voldemort transfigured his robes into Death-Eater robes, and conjured him a bone mask which Franklin donned. The same Vow was repeated with the other two. Once the three were dressed and masked, Lord Voldemort motioned for them to turn around, then returned to stand before his throne. "Companions! Behold your newest brothers and sisters!" The crowd applauded. "Before we retire, has anyone anything of immediate importance?"

There was answering silence. "Companion Guard. Inform the Sentinels that we are done with that which needs guarding, and once again returning to the world."

The Memory Guard lit his wand, then bowed, and knocked once on the door. "Companion Sentinels, we return to the world."

With that the room was brightly lit, and the Death-Eaters doffed their masks and donned their normal robes. The crowd dispersed into the rest of the manor, with the normal after-performance chatter filling the air. Behind them, blood still seeping, two corpses cooled on the floor, the glamor wearing off the female one to reveal a different one entirely, with a ring matching the one worn by the man.

Word Count: 2579


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